The Marauders Year Five Part 2 #Wattys2017

It Isn't Up To Me

McGonagall was seething.

The parlor door opened then, and Albus Dumbledore came into the room, smiling. "Well good morning, good morning." He nodded to Podmore Huxley and Dolores Umbridge, then turned to McGonagall, "Minerva."

"Albus," she said, "They're refusing to allow Sirius Black to sit the exam."

Dumbledore looked at her over his halfmoon glasses, "I'm sorry?"

"The boy was late, Albus," said Podmore Huxley.

"By mere seconds!" McGonagall inserted hotly. "The doors had no more than clicked when young Sirius Black arrived in the entrance hall!"

Podmore said, "Seconds are precious, Minerva."

"The young man ought to have gotten up with time to spare," Dolores Umbridge agreed, taking a sip of tea from a pink china cup she had conjured.

McGonagall stared at Dumbledore. Her voice trembled. "Albus."

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Mr. Huxley, is there no way to --"

Podmore began, "It is against centuries of wizarding traditions to allow ---"

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD THIS BOY HAS WORKED! HOW MUCH RUBBISH THIS BOY HAS BEEN PUT THROUGH! YOU HEARTLESS, POMPOUS TOAD!" McGonagall's voice rang in the parlor.

Dumbledore looked at her in surprise. "Minerva," he said calmly, "I do think it's time for a cup of tea for you. Why don't you run along to your office and I will advocate on Mr. Black's behalf?" He patted her shoulder. "Off you pop."

McGonagall looked up at him, "But Albus --" he gave her a look and she sighed. "Yes, Headmaster." She sighed and turned out the door as Dolores Umbridge grinned after her, and she heard Podmore Huxley murmur well I never and Dumbledore reply, You cannot deny that she's got sass, with a smile to his voice.

Minerva McGonagall walked up the stairs, her hands shaking with anger at the injustice, and she let herself into her office with a flick of her wand, and sat at her desk, putting her head down against the wood, resting on her arm. A strand of her hair had escaped her tight bun and now hung over her forehead into her eyes. She stared at the bookshelf, her eyes travelling up to the little teacup with the crosshatching. She sighed heavily.

It was quite some time later before there came a knock on her office door.

Minerva sat up, wiping her eyes, which were quite soaked, and she cleared her throat deeply, standing, fanning her face to dry the stains from the tears that crossed her cheeks, and she reached for the handle of the door and pulled it open. Before her stood Sirius Black himself, his hands in his pockets. The boy had put on his trousers and his oxford and even his tie - all correctly done though his oxford was untucked on one side and a bit wrinkled from being in his trunk. He'd even squished his feet into his proper shoes. He stared up at her.

"Please," he whispered, his voice raw and cracking.

McGonagall said, "Mr. Black, it isn't up to me."

"Surely you can tell them -- tell them what happened -- and --"

"I did, Sirius."

"No, but - please... please Minnie. I don't want to be good for nothing... I've revised so hard. I've worked so hard. We made flash cards. Look." Sirius reached in his pocket and pulled out the flashcards and he held them out to her. "I know every one of those, every single one. And we were practicing. We practiced transfiguring our lamp into an ostrich, Minnie, and once Peter accidentally made it an emu and Remus spent an hour and a half explaining the difference to us because he's a bloody Remcyclopedia, and James is so fucking good at it he doesn't even look up to do it. I struggled, honestly, my ostrich kept having a lampshade for a hat and he would open his mouth and light would come out, like he had lightbulbs for tonsils, but I got it finally, after a week of practicing. I finally got it. I - I got it, Minnie. I know how to do it now." His lips trembled.

The tears were in McGonagall's eyes again.

"Minnie... please," Sirius begged, "I'll come to every class wearing proper uniform from now on. I'll never put my feet on the desk again. I'll never - I'll call you Professor from now on if that's what you wish. I'll do anything." He clasped his hands. "Please."

"Sirius, I've told you - it isn't --"

He interrupted her, "You're the only adult that's properly believed in me, Professor. Don't give up on me now, please."

McGonagall closed her eyes. Her voice shook. "Mr. Black, I have tried. I spoke to the officials and they were very adamant that --"

"-- you are on time for your make-up exam at the Ministry for Magic on August 9."

McGonagall opened her eyes. There came Albus Dumbledore down the hall, running a hand over his beard nonchalantly, a smile upon his face. He patted Sirius's shoulder as he arrived and he said, "They will expect you there promptly at ten o'clock, in Miss. Umbridge's office in the Magical Education and Examinations department. I'm sure that Charlus Potter will be most happy to escort you to her room on the day of the examination."

Sirius turned between Dumbledore and McGonagall, his heart racing, "You mean it? I can make it up? I'm - I don't automatically fail?"

"Goodness, no, my boy," Dumbledore replied, "We are more than happy to accommodate the special circumstances."

"Thank you." Sirius wrapped his arms around Dumbledore first, squeezing the old headmaster, and then to Professor McGonagall, hugging her tightly and slopping a big wet kiss upon her cheek. "I won't let you down, Minnie, I won't."

She wiped her cheek as he pulled away - equal parts disgusted and elated by his happiness.

"Run along and tell your friends, I'm sure Master Lupin will be worried," Dumbledore said.

And Sirius tore off down the hall, shouting thank yous back at them as he went.

McGonagall paused as his voice faded off 'round the corner, then looked up at Dumbledore. "Albus - how did you --?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "I've called a few favors," he admitted, "But undermining their centuries-long traditions is one of my specialties, Minerva."